Now this, this is Antarctica....

When you think of Antarctica, you think cold, ominous, desolate, right?  Well, I have had to keep reminding friends and family that it is summer here, and therefore not that cold (25-40 degrees).  But, one thing I didn't really think about was the actual weather I would be experiencing.  Our first week, it was unnaturally sunny and clear.  Our second week, things started getting interesting.  Our third week, well, let's just say that it was more like what you would expect for a place that is so far away and covered in icebergs.  At first we just heard rumors of strong winds, and then we experienced first hand what that entailed and I'd like to describe what it was like to be out in even the milder moments of the several storms that came blazing through.
            After we missed our regular sampling day, we snuck out during a calmer window the next day.  The snow was falling and it really looked beautiful.  I was at the helm as we headed out.  I thought to myself, this isn't that bad, so my face will get chilled, who cares?  And then we got out of the harbor.  As I put the boat into higher gear, the wake splash started soaking me from head to knee.  (Imagine a silly commercial with someone in rain gear getting a bucket of water repeatedly thrown at them but not reacting to it).  Once we got farther out, the swell was so big that I had to slow down.   But once the spray stopped getting me, then it was the snow pelting me in the face.  Thank goodness for sunglasses on a cloudy day, because those flakes sting!  It felt like downhill skiing in a snow storm - hard to see, windburn, must keep going, must keep going...  Our farthest sampling spot is two miles from the station and once we got there, I just had to chuckle to myself.  How in the world are we going to pull this off?  It is difficult to describe, but I can certainly say that I felt the ocean's character that day. 
        The swell was 2-4 ft and good ol' bruiser was a champ, but there was a small part of me that had raised eyebrows and exclamation points running through my mind.  (More out of excitement than for safety concerns, mom).  I knew we would be fine, but I also knew that someone would have to sit on that platform and load our sampling bottles onto the wire without holding onto the boat.  That someone turned out to be me!  It was totally fun, but there were a few exhilarating and stomach-turning "whoooaaaa" moments when we went over the crests of the larger waves that unexpectedly changed my sense of balance and gravity.  These experiences seem to force-quit the logical side of my brain because it is so wonderfully overwhelming to take everything in.  The snowflakes falling around us into the ocean, the drifting icebergs, the dark clouds hanging over the mountains, whitecaps as far as you can see.... all of these aspects of nature create such an incredible atmosphere when combined that it escapes description.  Maybe we all need a little less reason and a little more wonder in our lives......   
       All in all, it was a great adventure and we came back to the lab full of energy from the excitement.  However, we needn't have been out in the boat to enjoy the storms.  Even from our bedroom window, we could see the waves hitting the islands and shoals where there is usually calm.  Interestingly, the oddest part of the storms was the day that it rained.  I love the rain, but something struck me as very odd about it, as if the Antarctic Peninsula would have somehow been isolated from normal weather patterns as it seems isolated from everything else linking us to a more normal life and recognizable landscape.  Icebergs and rain?  I'm still not sure what it was, but I know it felt weird to me.  Less strange though, was the grand rainbow that followed, stretching from island to sea.         
        Needless to say, everyone had a quiet, cozy couple of days.  As it turns out, we didn't realize how rare that sunshine in the first week really was.  The clouds have been blowing in and out ever since those big storms, with only glimpses of blue sky in the early morning and much later into the evening when the sun begins to set and I pull the ice cream out of the freezer  : )    In other weather-related news, the sun stays below the horizon for about three hours now, and I am determined to do some late-night stargazing before I leave.